


Eternal Affairs

by QueenOfNewOrleans22



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: Afterlife, Canonical Character Death, Fluff, M/M, Reunions, Terminal Illnesses
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-17
Updated: 2020-07-17
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:21:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25336780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QueenOfNewOrleans22/pseuds/QueenOfNewOrleans22
Summary: "Until we meet again, Wyatt. Adieu."A meeting in the afterlife.
Relationships: Wyatt Earp/Doc Holliday
Comments: 2
Kudos: 27





	Eternal Affairs

_"We're hardly loves, but you are my lover."_

In the end, it wasn't a bullet, or even a knife, that killed him. It wasn't a death that could be considered prideful or could be compared to the dreams of death that he had as a young man. Rather, it was a disease that frequently pained his abdomen, one that was like a firm fire within his body, often forcing him to remain standing for fear that the pain would send him to his knees. He was the last remaining brother, a man who once stood tall, reduced to just laying there in unbearable agony and wondering if a bullet to the head would've been more worth the title of having killed him once and for all. Wyatt had faced man older than himself and boys who were still wet behind the ears, hadn't felt a single ounce of fear, and he still didn't feel afraid when he was dying. Dear Josephine had sat by him, her fingers so pale and small within his own grip, and she'd cried once or twice in pure grief at what was happening to him. Wyatt had tried his best to reassure her of his love, platonic as it may have been at this point, and to assure her of his care when it regarded her. He'd whispered each and every word of love he could remember, and kissed her lips, which shook under his own like she couldn't stop crying. But she'd been strong in his dying moments, not keeping him from his earthly duty of not hanging onto the last threads of life like they kept him from drifting off to sea, into nothingness. 

_Wyatt knew that somebody was awaiting him._

When he came back to, blinking and perhaps a little dazed, it was to the wonderment of being young again. There was no pain, and that was a relief beyond words. His hair was going again dark, and he was strong again, muscled and commanding. There were no wrinkles and it was confirmed that yes, Wyatt was once again a man who was barely approaching middle age. He was in a saloon, and it took a long moment that was more than a little embarrassing to realize that it was the same saloon where he'd played many card games and broke up many fights. Where guns had fired, took lives. Where you could always be sure a man or two would die. Wyatt hadn't been back in years, but this wasn't real, after all, so it was only fitting that whatever changes had been made weren't present in this world. It was the same place that Wyatt had seen many times, dimly lit and smelling of cheap perfume, but reassuring in it's glory. 

There were tables around him, and many men and many women, who looked familiar even as Wyatt barely glanced at them. At one round poker table sat his brothers, Morgan and Virgil and Newton and all of the rest of them, and standing off to the side were their parents, and Wyatt felt something within himself, like his heart was beating too fast for his body. Mattie was sitting at another table, her hair done up and lips twisted in a recognizable smile, and she lifted her hand to briefly wave at him. Wyatt raised a hand in response, unable to do much more than look at everybody, long dead, _alive._

_He thought he'd been prepared for this._

Wyatt was young and mighty. His friends and family were around him, once again in his life, or perhaps, death, and then from the shadows stepped a man who Wyatt had longed to see for many years. A man who was healthy now, whole, taking deep, fulfilling breaths that weren't interrupted by the rough cough that had plagued him for much of his adult life. Familiar auburn hair and perpetually respectable clothing, smiling at him with the familiar mischief glittering in his light eyes. "Hello, Wyatt. Fancy seeing you again." Doc said with that slow drawl, smirking slightly. Wyatt leaned against the table closest to him, observing the healthiness of his lover's body, how tan he looked, a life without the disease that ravaged his body and stole each and every one of his breaths. "Doc." He said, unable to keep the smile from his face. "I missed you." 

_Please don't let this be a dream._

A low chuckle followed the statement. "Who wouldn't?" Doc said, his footsteps echoing throughout the building as he drew closer. "My, how handsome you look in this lighting." 

Wyatt raised his hand, placed it on the side of his lover's face. He couldn't stop marveling at how different Doc looked, away from the pain that followed him in life, every moment, sleeping and waking. "It is quite startling, you can imagine." He chuckled. "Look at you, it's like magic." 

Doc seemed unbothered. "Take your time." He replied. 

He was home. His brothers, parents, wife, lover. All gathered, once more, in a place some of them never even stepped foot in. Wyatt could hardly dare to believe it, but he did dare to lean foward, to kiss Doc firmly and passionately and enjoy the fact that nobody seemed to notice this act of affection, or react to it. Doc was once again with him, and Wyatt had no intentions to ever let him go again. Smirking in that way of his that suggested deep amusement and fondness, Doc grazed his lips against Wyatt's, no longer caring to hide, just happy to be together once more. 

"I missed you, too." 


End file.
